Just like riding a bike
by samanddianefan10
Summary: Set during Everyone Imitates Art. After realizing Sam's true feelings for her, Diane allows herself to be carried away by the moment, and things definitely heat up from there.


Sam pulled himself back from Diane's ardent embrace to try to gather his thoughts. What was happening? Diane was insisting that he was still in love with her, and the letters that he'd saved were proof of his affections. She was nuts. He'd just saved them, along with a ticket stub and some other random items. They didn't prove anything, save for the fact that he was getting sappy the older he got. Who knew that plagiarizing her poem could lead to such an entanglement?

"You sure you don't want to go back to my place and…ride a bike?"

"Is that all you think about? Are you so willing to trade in the magic of this moment for a few cheap thrills?"

He didn't have to think twice. "You bet!"

"Well then, Mister, your wish is about to come true," Diane grinned wryly at him.

Sam was confused. Just because he saved some letters he was about to get lucky? Just when he'd thought that he'd figured the woman out, she came up with a new surprise every time.

"Well all right then. Let's go!"

So before they knew it they found themselves back at Sam's apartment. It was a bachelor pad all right, stocked with everything the way a good server would prepare things.

"You want some wine?" He asked eagerly.

"That sounds lovely. I must say, I like what you've done with the place. I heard that one of Woody's pig farming cousins is looking for a new place to locate to," she teased.

"Come on, it isn't that bad."

"It just needs a woman's touch. You get the wine; I'll do some picking up."

"Okay, but don't go near the bedroom. Not yet anyways."

"Whatever you say," she sang out before starting her work.

"Here you go," he handed her the glass. "I hope you enjoy it."

"I'm with my man, I have a nice glass of wine, I have hope for the future, what else could a lady ask for?"

"Diane, don't start. This doesn't mean anything. It just means that I'm ready and you're willing. Nothing complicated about that," Sam complained.

"Oh, we both know exactly what this means. "

"I hate when you do that! You think you have something over me but you don't. This is just sex. That's it. Sex."

Diane set down her glass and then moved closer to him, so close he could feel her breath on his face. "Is it, Sam? Is that all it is?"

"Yes…oh yeah. Oh yeah." By then he'd forgotten his name, until she called it out again in a moment of passion.

"Sam…do you want me? Say it. I want to hear you say it."

"Oh boy, Diane. I want you. I admit it. I want you. You smell so good…"

She laughed, knowing the effect her perfume had always had on him. Unlike her, who was repulsed by the cologne that he wore that was without a trace of nuance.

But never mind that. She was here with her man, the love of her life, and there was no place else she'd rather be at the moment.

Kissing him softly, she started the invigorating process of removing his shirt. His eager hands began to explore every ounce of her femininity. She was all woman, and he knew that once he'd started that he would not begin to quit. Forget about all her talk about marriage; that would come, he was sure of it, but just not today. Today he had other matters on his mind, and the topic of those matters was Diane Chambers.

He let out a moan as she kissed her way around his upper extremity, pleasing him with every flicker of the tongue and with the moistness of her lips. She knew what she was doing to him, all right, and Diane was loving every minute of this heavenly torture. He could die now a happy man, and she would be the cause of his demise- and she would love it.

He moved his hands along the inside of her blouse, tempting fate by seeing just how far she would let him go. Kisses were flying furiously as he removed her brassiere, taking in the sight of her small but pleasingly pert breasts. She was truly a sight to behold, he decided, as he massaged her flesh.

It didn't take her long to respond to his touch, as she instinctively parted her thighs to allow access to her most sacred area. Taking his cue, he lowered his hand down to her pants and with one quick motion he undid her pants, and then quickly brought her to a point of ecstasy.

She let out a soft sigh, as no other man had so expertly driven her insane before in his life. Sam was a skilled lover, to be sure, and she knew that he knew it, but she didn't care about that. All she knew was that she was putty in his hands, and he was the artist. What he could create…

Diane decided it was time to return the favor and took him in her hands and caressed him slowly but surely. He closed his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the moment of pleasure she was giving him. How could someone with such an angelic face do something so naughty? He would die trying to figure that out. Just as he was coming close to the brink, she stopped and smiled.

"Oh, Diane," he muttered. "You're killing me, you know that?"

"but what a way to go," she teased as she lowered her pants and panties.

It didn't take much for him to know what to do next. Soon he became one with her, and with every thrust, every motion, he knew that she was going as insane as he was. Nothing else mattered right now. He'd long ago learned to keep his eye on the prize; in this case the prize was pleasing Diane as she had never been pleasured before in her life. By all accounts, it looked as if he was achieving his goal. Her breath was labored and with every movement she dug her nails just a little further into his back, letting him know that she was close.

Finally the desired moment occurred, and she let out a cry that could wake the neighbors. Sam loved when she did that, it made him feel every inch a man, a man who knew how to take care of his woman. She brought out that feeling in him like no other woman had, and he hated himself for loving her so much. Yes, she was right. He loved her, but he would never admit that.

For now, the comfort of his embrace would have to suffice for the words that would not, could not, come out. They held each other, knowing that nothing had changed, according to Sam, but to her, everything had changed. She was where she belonged, and she would go to her grave loving this man. Maybe Diane was wrong. Sometimes words were not necessary to express the moment, and he was grateful for once she was not insisting on small talk. They had each other, and for better or worse, he knew that nothing would ever change that between them.

The end


End file.
